


a masked compromise

by sleeponrooftops



Series: raising webhead: a parenting guide, attempted by the science boyfriends [42]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A parent teacher conference reveals something that could prove worrying, so Tony and Bruce decide to tackle it with a compromise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a masked compromise

_One month later._

_November, 2023_

“Prepare yourself,” Bruce says as he comes into the lab, and Tony gives him a bewildered look before turning his gaze to the door as Peter comes in, Johnny and Flash trailing him, and they’re all talking at once, loudly and excitedly.  They make their way over to Peter’s corner, dumping their bags, and Johnny shushes them, taking the floor.  “They did this the whole ride home,” Bruce says, looping his arms around Tony’s neck and dropping a kiss on his cheek, “I don’t know what they’re talking about, but something’s got them all worked up.”

 

“No!” Flash suddenly shouts, pointing a finger at Johnny, and they’re both grinning like mad.  They’re silent for only a second before they’re launching back into their conversation, and Tony and Bruce watch them with a mixture of interest and confusion.

 

“I thought only girls did this,” Tony murmurs, leaning his head against Bruce’s, who shrugs.

 

“Dads!” Peter exclaims, turning to them, and Johnny and Flash fall quiet, looking at him, “I totally forgot, I’m supposed to remind you that there’s a parent teacher conference on Friday.  We have a half day.”

 

“You’re coming with me,” Bruce says before Tony can argue, “You didn’t come to the last one, you have to come with me.”

 

“When did that become a rule?” Tony demands as Bruce stands and heads over to his section of the lab.

 

“I’ll add it to the list, if you’re not good.”

 

“Do you really have a list?” Peter asks, quirking an eyebrow and grinning.

 

“He does,” Tony says, rolling his eyes obnoxiously, “Because he doesn’t want me to just be myself!” he finishes in a yell, turning and making a face at Bruce.

 

“What’s the title of the list?” Bruce says, not looking at him.

 

“For public appearances only,” Tony mutters, sighing.

 

“Exactly.  You can be yourself in the comfort of your family all you want, but, when sitting in front of Peter’s teachers, best behavior.  No, Tony,” he continues as Tony opens his mouth, “I’m only giving an example, public appearances mean everything else, too.”  Peter just laughs at them and turns back to his friends, whereupon they launch back into conversation.

 

Days later, when Friday arrives, Tony and Bruce bring Peter home before going back to his school to meet with his teachers.  They all have much of the same to say—that he’s a joy to have in class, that they haven’t had a student who was so interested in learning in such a long time, and that he’s a very gifted young man.  And then they come to his art teacher, who has much the same to say, with the exception of, “He actually did this lovely charcoal drawing recently that I wanted to show you.”

 

He gets up to go over to a wall of cubbies, tapping his fingers along them until he finds Peter’s, and he brings a large folder back over, laying it on the table and opening it up, flicking through the various projects inside until he lets out a soft noise and turns it so that it faces them.  Tony glances at Bruce when they see it, and Bruce fights a small smile.  It’s done entirely in a curving red, with large, almond-shaped white eyes, black lining the eyes and mapping out the red like a spider web.

 

“He said it was based on something he was designing at home,” his art teacher says, “But it really shows an advanced level of artistic talent.”

 

“He gets that from his uncle,” Bruce says, smiling, “Steve’s an incredible artist, and he taught Peter a lot when he was younger.”

 

“Well, I know his interests lie in science, but I think he should definitely continue to pursue art.  These are some of his other projects.  Some of them are finished, some still in progress, but they all hold promise.”  He displays a few blue-tinted pieces with varying mediums, as well as one of a bird’s eye view of Midtown, looking down from the Tower, which lines the side of the piece.

 

They speak with his art teacher for a while longer before taking their leave, and Bruce calls Peter when they’re on their way home.  “Am I awesome or what?” Peter says by way of answering, and Tony rolls his eyes, smirking.

 

“Peter,” Bruce says, reaching up a hand to rub at his temple, though he’s smiling, “Do you want to go out somewhere for dinner in celebration of your good work?”

 

“Oh great,” Peter groans, and Tony laughs.

 

“He’s good,” he says, so Bruce smacks him lightly.

 

“What happened?  Who said what?” Peter asks.

 

“It’s nothing, just—we have to be dads for a little bit.”

 

“You know, you’re totally _lame_ when you decide to be dads.”

 

“I thought I banned that word!” Tony exclaims, so Bruce hangs up.

 

They settle on a restaurant later, and they’re waiting on their entrees when Peter sighs and turns to them, waiting.  “Stop it,” Bruce says, smiling, “It’s not that bad.  We just have to set some ground rules about something.”

 

“We met with your art teacher,” Tony begins, and he grins at Peter’s groan.

 

“We saw the mask,” Bruce continues, giving Tony a look before turning back to Peter, “Are you making a costume?”

 

“I might be.”

 

“Peter.”

 

“Yes, I’m making a costume.  I haven’t started the mask yet, but that’s what I wanted it to look like.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce says, “We’re not saying you can’t.  We’re just saying you can’t fight.”

  
“ _Dad_!”

 

“Peter, you’re thirteen.  And don’t try to pull the whole you’re superheroes bit because dad and I didn’t get into this until we were _much_ older.  Obviously, you’re going to be a different case, but while you’re still not legal, no fighting.”

 

“So, when I turn eighteen, I can join the Avengers?”

 

“Yeah, definitely not,” Tony says, “It’s not just some game, Peter.  I—I nearly died against the Chitauri.  Hell, I _did_ die.  That’s not something we can, in good conscience, let you be part of.  When you’re older, maybe, but not until then.”

 

“So, what—I just get to fight regular, boring crime?”

 

“You shouldn’t even be thinking about fighting crime,” Bruce says, “But, knowing you, and knowing us, we’re not going to be able to stop you, so we’re just—compromising.  Look, we could just say never.  We’re trying to be fair.”

 

Peter mulls that over, and he doesn’t say anything again until their food arrives.  “Okay,” he says, nodding, “I can accept that, I guess.  It’s fairer than Uncle Reed and Auntie Sue.  They said Johnny’s not allowed to join them until he’s in his twenties.  Thanks for not freaking out.”

 

“I think it’d be kind of hypocritical if we did,” Tony says, and Peter nods.

 

“Yeah, little bit.  Okay, what did everyone else say?  Am I awesome or what?”

 

Tony laughs as Bruce shakes his head, and the rest of their night is spent talking about school and Peter’s future, and it occurs to Bruce that they’ve been doing this dads thing for a decade now and they haven’t royally screwed up yet, so he thinks maybe, just maybe, they were actually meant to do this all along.


End file.
